Shelter at The Hope House, in honor of Brett
Donation protected
Hi everyone, my name is Brittany Hope. This January marks two years since I lost my father, Brett. My father struggled with heroin addiction since the age of 17, and experienced homelessness for the final years of his life. Growing up with a father who was a heroin addict was definitely difficult to comprehend, but my mother’s work at The Hope House for Women made me much better comprehend that addiction is not a choice, it is a disease. And society needs to treat it as such.
My mother founded The Hope House for Women over 30 years ago, when she herself was able to work through her own struggles. She started by picking up women experiencing homelessness off the street, and giving them shelter inside her own home! Later, with the help of my father’s father, she was able to secure a loan to get an apartment for those women and really make the shelter “official.” The Northridge earthquake of ’94 completely damaged that apartment building, so she then opened up a home. It has been over 30 years, and thousands of women have called The Hope House, “home.”
Today, The Hope House for Women is a 501(c ) (3) -- (Tax ID # 20-0698798). It is a shelter and halfway home for women struggling with addiction, homelessness, incarceration, and those who are under protection from the state; with two homes located next-door to each other. It is a safe house, so the location and more details will not be included here.
Growing up, I spent most of my time with the “girls” at the house. Attending AA and NA meetings with them, braiding their hair, playing with the pet cat in the yard, listening to their struggles at work and watching them cook their favorite foods. Every Thursday my mom and I would go to Costco, and I would sit atop the mountains of toilet paper and paper towels she would buy for the Hopettes, as they fondly call themselves. The Hopettes were, and are, like family. Seeing them navigate their own relationship with their addiction, families, and lives is what made me understand my father’s own struggles.
In honor of him being gone for two years, I’m trying to raise enough money to house one woman at The Hope House for at least one month. When my father was living in a similar shelter for men when I was in high school, he was able to stay sober, get a job, and pick me up from school. It was the best two years of my life, having my Daddy by my side. Unfortunately, he relapsed the night of my high school graduation, and I never saw him again.
With your help, I hope we can give another woman the opportunity to be supported, safe, and secure. Another kid the chance to have their parent see their child grow up. Every dollar you donate will be in honor of my beautiful father, Brett, who I miss every day. Thank you all so much for your support. Everyone deserves a second chance, third, fourth chance in life. Rest in peace, Daddy!
PS -- The cover photo of this is my mom, my dad, and me at the Hope House (many moons ago).
My mother founded The Hope House for Women over 30 years ago, when she herself was able to work through her own struggles. She started by picking up women experiencing homelessness off the street, and giving them shelter inside her own home! Later, with the help of my father’s father, she was able to secure a loan to get an apartment for those women and really make the shelter “official.” The Northridge earthquake of ’94 completely damaged that apartment building, so she then opened up a home. It has been over 30 years, and thousands of women have called The Hope House, “home.”
Today, The Hope House for Women is a 501(c ) (3) -- (Tax ID # 20-0698798). It is a shelter and halfway home for women struggling with addiction, homelessness, incarceration, and those who are under protection from the state; with two homes located next-door to each other. It is a safe house, so the location and more details will not be included here.
Growing up, I spent most of my time with the “girls” at the house. Attending AA and NA meetings with them, braiding their hair, playing with the pet cat in the yard, listening to their struggles at work and watching them cook their favorite foods. Every Thursday my mom and I would go to Costco, and I would sit atop the mountains of toilet paper and paper towels she would buy for the Hopettes, as they fondly call themselves. The Hopettes were, and are, like family. Seeing them navigate their own relationship with their addiction, families, and lives is what made me understand my father’s own struggles.
In honor of him being gone for two years, I’m trying to raise enough money to house one woman at The Hope House for at least one month. When my father was living in a similar shelter for men when I was in high school, he was able to stay sober, get a job, and pick me up from school. It was the best two years of my life, having my Daddy by my side. Unfortunately, he relapsed the night of my high school graduation, and I never saw him again.
With your help, I hope we can give another woman the opportunity to be supported, safe, and secure. Another kid the chance to have their parent see their child grow up. Every dollar you donate will be in honor of my beautiful father, Brett, who I miss every day. Thank you all so much for your support. Everyone deserves a second chance, third, fourth chance in life. Rest in peace, Daddy!
PS -- The cover photo of this is my mom, my dad, and me at the Hope House (many moons ago).
Organizer and beneficiary
Brittany Hope
Organizer
Los Angeles, CA
Beth Hope
Beneficiary